another warm and balmy sunlit day

Though the backyard garden is a small one, I have to say the garden has been good this year.  The zinnias and dahlias are blooming in their full glory. There are still a few tomatoes ripening on the vine and the scarlet runners are still producing enough beans for a fall soup.  The freezer is loaded with peaches from the volunteer trees that are sprinkled around the property thanks to the mysterious workings of the compost pile. Though the nights have taken on that fall chill, the days have been remarkably warm, warm enough to bask out in bare feet on the deck and listen to the going-ons of nature.

Yes, there is so much to love about October.   It even has its own band of cheerleaders that began singing its praises way back in the heat and humidity of early summer.  Fall is pumpkin spice, cozy sweatshirts and Halloween rolled all into one.  It is the blazing oranges and reds of the maples, poplars and oaks.  As I sit listening to the steady plunk of acorns falling, and there are so many this year, I feel assured that the wildlife will also have its share of winter food.  

I do wish I could fully sing October’s praises, but I have mixed feelings about the whole autumn thing.  For the gardener, October signals the end of the growing season.  It is the month when we bid farewell to the last few days of summerlike weather and hello to the growing days of frosty chill.  We know that it is only a matter of time until the black frost hits.  And what a sad day that is to wake up to.  The scarlet runner vines will soon hang dark and drippy from their teepee structures eliminating any wishful thoughts of a late season crop, and the pumpkins on the back porch will begin their mushy slide into oblivion. The exuberant zinnias will wilt to exhaustion, feeling a bit humbled to have their place on the stage yanked so suddenly away from them.  They really did their best this year and after such a colorful show featuring their best shades of exquisite reds and yellows, it doesn’t seem right to be replaced by that trusty and rusty chrysanthemum.  But all good things must come to pass and so too will those fall flowers. 

Winter is on the rise.  The daylight hours grow shorter, and there are no more garden chores to be done after the supper hour.  The darkness comes so much earlier than expected, and it seems like the days are closing in on us. The hum in the air of bees and insects has been replaced with the sounds of migrating birds in flight.  They nestle in the shelter of the tall maples and poplars, and then in a rush, they are off to the places they must go. One day you might look out the window at the brilliant tapestry of colors, and the next their leaves are swirling across the lawn to gather at the garden’s edge.  After the birds have flown and the leaves have fallen, all is quiet for a moment.  The season’s rush is officially over.  October… in like a lamb and out like a lion.  Spring time and March, I’ll see you on the other side.